Masterpieces
by Septdeneuf
Summary: When a serial killer starts posting videos of murdering his victims online, everyone views them with morbid curiosity. Until they realize those were actually filmed in Lima. And a member of Glee club goes missing...
1. Prologue

Of course you shouldn't tout your own horn too much, but there was no denying it. This. Was. A. Masterpiece. One of those great artistic achievements that would be seen and appreciated for years to come. One whose significance would still be seen centuries from now.

Today, it would probably not be appreciated for its value, but boundary pushing art rarely was in the life time of its creators. That was okay, really. As she pushed herself back from the desk, she at least had the satisfaction that she had made something groundbreaking.

Editing had really done wonders here, but the techniques were never as important as the subject matter. True art always transcends the medium that captures it.

Sure, the idea had been the same in the previous iterations of their work, but it had never come out quite as well. Their subject had taken them in a direction they hadn't anticipated, but the result was so organic, and dynamic it seemed to be the best way. Planning could only do so much when you had inspiration.

Would it be too indulgent to look at the work just one more time? Surely not. Sometimes even the artist could enjoy the results of the work.

She clicked the button almost reverently, her finger touching the mouse only just as hard as was needed. The sound of soft singing, an almost wailing, mournful tone filled the air. Maybe the song choice wasn't the most original, maybe they should have written one themselves, but really, it fit well, and the interpretation was what mattered.

_Playground school bell rings again_

The screen was filled with short, fleeting shots of a face, shot from the left, a drop of blood, a tear trailing down a cheek. The background was always black, the stark lighting almost too harsh, putting in great contrasts.

Then the singer came into view. On the left side the end of a gun was visible, pointing at hands shakily holding some sheet music. Slowly, it panned up, so the young pale face came into view. He was quite beautiful, really, in a way few males were. Pale skin was flushed slightly, and tears that were being held back were glistening in blue eyes.

_Rain clouds come to play again _ _Has no one told you she's not breathing? _

The sound of the singing wasn't quite as full as it was on the original recording, even though they knew he had the vocal capability to match that. Breath was hitching, every few words not quite audible. The emotion in the voice was so genuine and heartbreaking that the video was almost unnecessary. Just the recording could have made people cry.

Not that that was the point. Which was why this experience was so much richer.

The shot faded into one of exposed pale skin, a close up of a back next to a discarded white button down shirt. The starkness of the contrast enhanced the effect, when a glistening silver scalpel dug lightly into the soft skin to start tracing a pattern, while in the background the song went on.

Fingers curling in pain, taking what seemed to be an agonizing long time, even though it was barely two seconds, and then quite suddenly stretching again.

Back to the pattern, now the shot had a slightly higher angle, so the outline of the rose petal that was being traced was more obvious to the observer.

The sound design had originally supposed to have been only the song, with no distraction by any other noises, but by what happened to be pure coincidence, one of the screams had been the perfect pitch to fit in with the song, even though those particular notes would only be reached later in the song, one long scream that seemed almost ethereal when hearing it out of context was in the soundtrack at that point.

Back to looking at the design. Now it was finished, shot from above a rose made from blood, drawn across almost the entire expanse of the back, some drops slowly dripping down.

A new shot, of the protagonist sitting up, with his hands tied behind his back, visible from the shoulders up.

"Are you insane?", he said with an unexpected venom for such a pretty voice, to someone off camera.

"You want me to do what? Leave messages? Tell everyone I love not to be sad, and that it's all going to be okay?" incredulous laughter followed. "Yeah well it isn't. You're just standing there telling me this is the last thing I'll ever say, and you want me to be fine with that? I want to go home, I want to _live_!" Desperation was in that voice, but still so much anger.

Most of the others who'd starred in her productions had been panicking, pleading and crying desperately, but this… this was different. Looking at him, she would never have guessed he would turn out to be the strongest of them all, faced with certain death, but looks could always be deceiving.

"So no. I'm not going to say whatever it is you want me to say, and I don't care if it doesn't fit into whatever kind of fucked up picture you're trying to paint."

A cut back to the back, now covered by the white shirt again, with blood slowly seeping through it. The picture had been painted. And it was quite beautiful, to be honest.

Cut to the last shot of the video. And it was a fantastic one. Off screen someone was saying something, but for obvious reasons she hadn't been able to insert the actual voice. Still, the face that was now in close up reacting was enough. The look of resolve slowly replaced by fear creeping in, a look of terror only just beginning to form…

Cut to black.

Not nearly as explicit a video as any of her previous work, but in a way this was even more powerful. Because every viewer would fill in what that look meant, their imagination possibly making it even more terrible than what had actually transpired.

She leaned back in her chair again, pleased with herself. Of course, similar videos could have been produced by others, and probably had been before, but there was one decisive difference between those and this one.

This one was real.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: Since I started this in the summer I'm going to stick with what was canon back then, because it would mess up my planning if I changed it now. I could say something about how sorry I am for the wait, and I am, but I don't have an excuse. Leaving comments usually helps me keep up a bit more regular schedule.

„Mr Shue isn't here yet, right?" Tina asked, as she walked into the choir room, iPhone in hand.

„No, all clear", Artie replied. Glee hadn't started yet, so the choir room was still sparsely populated. Kurt was already sitting in his costumery seat near the back, but aside from that it was empty.

„Good, cause I wanted to show you this video", she said as she sat down next to him. She held her phone at an angle where Artie could see it, and tapped play.

„It's this trailer for a horror film, some sort of viral marketing thing, it's kind of gross, but get this: it's set in Lima." Kurt stopped his texting at that, and scrunched up his face with a pensive look.

„A horror film. Set in Lima. So… it's a documentary?"

Tina looked up at him and giggled. „Well it doesn't look like there's many slushies in there, so probably not."

„Wait, documentary?", Finn asked, who had entered the room while Artie had been watching the video, just a little slower on the uptake than the others. „Oh come on, it's not that bad here." He only got an unimpressed eyebrow raise from Kurt as his response.

„It's probably gonna be really bad, but the fact alone that it's set here might be enough to get me watching it in the theaters, you in?", she asked Artie, and only realized a second after the words left her mouth that it was sort of like asking him out on a date, and that was just opening up a can of awkwardness. But Mike hated horror movies, so he probably wouldn't want to go see it with her, and Artie had been her go to friend for this sort of thing long before they'd even started dating.

Luckily Kurt had chosen just that awkward moment to come over and look at the video himself „Oh god", he managed to choke out. Tina checked the screen to see which scene it was and saw that it was the one with the woman on the fencepost, which, to be fair…

„That is going to melt your phone", the fashionista declared and made his way back to his seat.

„Is it really that bad?", Finn asked and walked up to them too.

„Video's already over", Tina said. „And since I can't play it again without ‚melting my phone' you'll just have to google it yourself," she declared in a sweet tone. He could just watch it in the safety of his own home, where him vomiting on the floor would not be her problem.

„Oh my god you guys", Rachel said as she stormed in to the choir room. Really, it was almost as if she was incapable of going places without making some sort of dramatic entrance. It was probably best to think of that as an endearing trait, if you wanted to avoid hitting her with a shovel.

„What's wrong?" Finn asked, the one person who could always be counted on to indulge in Rachel's crazy.

„Did you hear about that… video?", she asked, as she walked up to take a seat.

„You're… going to have to be a tad more specific than that", Kurt said, but he looked sideways at Tina. Hey, it wasn't her fault that the video showed something that probably scarred him for life. Blame the internet.

„There was a murder", Rachel declared, suddenly getting back up even though she hadn't finished sitting down yet. „And they filmed it and put it on the internet. And it happened in Lima. Right here. I mean it could've happened to anyone we know, I think we should form a task force for ensuring the continued safety of this club…"

„Wait, a video of a murder? Are you sure it's real?", Finn asked.

„Oh yes, it says so on the website of the Lima Daily. I mean I obviously haven't seen it, but it's supposed to be very gruesome, apparently it was something about a fencepost… Anyway, they found the woman, and she's dead."

„A… fencepost?", Kurt repeated and looked back at Artie and Tina. Tina stared at the now black screen of her phone. So that… she suddenly felt sick to her stomach and had to excuse herself so as not to throw up in the choir room.

That revelation put her off of wanting to see horror movies for quite a while.

Rachel's suggestion of putting together some sort of glee neighborhood watch to ensure the safety of the club and their future glory at nationals had seemed quite over the top after the first video had showed up. As sick as it was, a single murder was hardly enough to send everyone in town in a wild panic.

But then the second video came. And seeing a huge trucker confess his love for a woman he'd known all his life in tears only to after… none of the people who had watched the video had been willing to tell Blaine what had happened, but that fact alone told him more than he needed to know.

And when he happened to see the third video he really wished he hadn't. The middle aged woman running, tripping over something and then being caught seemed like sort of a cliché movie wise, but the fact that it was real and she was found two days with several of her internal organs strewn about made it all the more chilling.

And made Rachel's paranoid warnings not to leave the house alone seem all the more reasonable.

Even now, pulling into the parking lot of the Lima bean for his and Kurt's standing coffee date in broad daylight gave Blaine an odd sense of apprehension. A murder caught on video was one thing.

A serial killer was quite something else.

He got out of the car and locked the doors, while trying to shake that nagging flight instinct. _Get a grip, _he told himself, _Kurt's here, too. _Somehow, it wasn't nearly as comforting a thought as he'd been going for. Honestly he'd feel a lot better if Kurt was still at Dalton spending all his time in Westerville, which was not only a delightful place where one could enjoy one of the premiere educational experiences in the country, but was also completely free of psychotic serial killers.

That he knew of.

Also not a thought that was making him feel better.

When he entered the coffee shop he could already see Kurt waiting for him with two cups of coffee, as always. „Medium drip", he announced and gestured towards the untouched cup with a flourish.

„You know, where I come from conversations usually start with a hello", Blaine said with a grin as he sat down.

„Well, I think a dose of caffeine is just so much more energetic", Kurt said with a grin and leaned over the table for a very quick peck on the cheek. They hadn't yet run into any problems in the Lima bean, but they both silently agreed that it was probably safer to keep the PDAs to a minimum.

„So, how was your day? All the sordid details, please", Kurt said eagerly.

„Well, I managed to get here without being serial killed, so I think I've done better than some people in this town", Blaine said, taking a sip from his coffee, which was at perfect drinking temperature. Was that a testament to his impeccable timing, or Kurt's?

„Oh not you, too. It's almost as if all other topics of conversation have been banned from school. And you know what's worst about it? The people who feel the pressing need to recount every detail of the videos all while announcing how horrible they are and how they wish they hadn't watched it. I mean really, if you don't want to see it, don't watch it, and if I chose not to, I don't need to be told."

„You're cute when you rant", Blaine said.

„Don't deflect, I'm not done", Kurt said with an annoyed little huff. „How do they even watch it? I mean youtube always blocks those as soon as they're found, but somehow everyone's seen them, how does that work, exactly? They can't all be online at exactly the same time, now can they?"

„You know what they say about our generation, we're never ever offline. Facebook and Twitter are sort of like parasites digging into our brain", Blain said.

„Oh, sorry, the proper reaction to that would've been reading some email on my iPhone and then looking up and saying ‚Huh?' But I missed the moment", Kurt said apologetically.

„Don't worry, it's the thought that counts. But seriously, I don't think you can erase anything off the internet. There's always someone who copies it to post it somewhere else, and if there's enough people who find it interesting, it's never gonna go away."

„I think it reflects really poorly on society as a whole that so many people want to see that. I mean, a horror movie is one thing, but this, knowing it's real… and they still all want to see it."

„You know, in ancient Rome they had convicted criminals acting in the death scenes for real", Blaine threw in.

„And look how far we've come since then", Kurt said rolling his eyes. „Anyway, done with that rant. I love your new scarf."

Blaine looked down at it. „Right? It really goes with the uniform, doesn't it? I got it off the internet", Blaine said proudly, and received a nod in return. He may not be quite as good at color coordination and basically anything fashion related as Kurt was (but then again, who could compete with Kurt at that), but he was improving.

„Approved", Kurt said, grinning. „Also very fitting with your whole always online theory."

They continued to banter for a while, but Blaine's heart wasn't quite in it. He had to actively fight the urge to look over his shoulder all the time. Maybe Rachel's paranoia about the whole thing was a little over the top, but it was definitely infectious. And the most contact Blaine had with her was through Facebook. It wouldn't surprise him to find that everyone who interacted regularly with her was a nervous wreck by now.

Then again. Rachel Berry. They were used to the crazy.

„Blaine, is everything all right?", Kurt said, when he noticed that his last comment about which bolder patterns might be compatible with the Dalton uniform went completely unnoticed.

„Huh? Oh sorry, I guess I drifted off a little bit, there", he said and shook his head a little to clear his thoughts. Didn't help much.

„I could tell. What on earth could be more fascinating than selecting the perfect scarf?"

„I just… I'm worried about you."

Kurt gave a little sigh and grabbed Blaine's hand across the table. „That's sweet, but things have been going much better at McKinley, really. Karofsky's kept true to his promise, and that actually makes it a lot easier."

„It's not that…" Blaine haltingly admitted. Even though worrying about Kurt being bullied at McKinley would probably be much more reasonable than what he was actually worried about. „This whole serial killer thing just makes me nervous."

„Blaine, unless I've been walking around with a huge target on my back and no one's told me about it yet, I don't think it's very likely that anything's going to happen. Though that would explain a lot of things…" Kurt looked up pensively.

„No, you're not an automatic target for anything bad, I'm just… I'd be happier if you were back at Dalton where I know you're safe." Not that that was the only thing that would make him feel happier about that scenario. „I'm your boyfriend, I'm sorry, but irrational worrying is part of the job description."

„Yes, but I'm gonna tell you not to worry anyway, and there's nothing you can do about that. Don't worry. And you know I can't just go back to Dalton, we could barely afford the time I already spent there."

„Yeah, well, I hate to ask, but then how did you afford this thoroughly fabulous but likely not very cheap outfit you have on right now?", Blaine asked playfully. Kurt looked innocently away to the side.

„I don't think we're far enough in our relationship for you to know that", he announced, and Blaine had to laugh at the tone.

„Just promise me, you'll be careful, okay?" Blaine asked, and hoped his tone accurately portrayed that he wasn't joking about that.

„I will. Just like I already promised my dad, and Carole and have made Rachel and Brittany promise me, because they both have a tendency to come up with weird ideas", Kurt said. „You're not the only one worried", he admitted. „And I definitely don't plan on going out alone anytime soon."

„Good", Blaine said, trying to hide his obvious relief as best as he could. „Just, you know, if a stranger offers you candy; Don't take it!" he added with all the seriousness he could muster.

„That's sound advice", Kurt said with a sage nod, not breaking face at all. „Got anymore?"

„Don't, under any circumstances, get into their van."

„What would I do without you?"

Later that afternoon, Kurt was still a little sulky that Blaine had chosen a history essay above coming over and making out, but he'd been comforting himself browsing ebay and other sites trying to decide which was the must have piece for the next season. Maybe he'd have a little easier time with Blaine blowing him off for studying if the McKinley curriculum was accurately challenging, but after having spent a semester at Dalton the sad truth was, none of the formerly daunting tasks seemed nearly as difficult anymore.

Except for geometry. That was still just as confusing as ever, not that he'd admit to it.

He looked up at the clock when the doorbell rang. Probably Finn, late from football practice. Or whatever the current sport of choice was. He knew Finn had been talking about at the last friday night dinner, and as a good step brother he'd done his best to pretend to pay attention, but none of the information had really made an effort to stick in his memory.

He got up and walked down the stairs to get the door. Finn forgetting his keys was sadly not a rare occurrence and made Kurt wonder how he had managed when he'd just been living with his mom who'd not been home very often because of her job.

The bell rang again. „I'm coming", he yelled at the door and picked up his pace.

„Really Finn", he said as he opened the door, „you need one of those things that…"

When the weird smelling rag was pressed onto his nose and mouth, he just barely had the time to realize that that wasn't supposed to happen before his world started spinning and faded to black.


	3. Chapter 2

When Burt got home, he saw his son's car parked in the driveway, so he bellowed „I'm home" all throughout the house as soon as he was inside. He noticed that he got no response, but that in and of itself wasn't unusual. Kurt had a tendency to do strange things and get too caught up in them to notice the world around him.

Not bad things, mind you. Just weird once.

Once Burt had caught him staring intently at two different pairs of pants and one pair of boots, muttering to himself. When he'd returned half an hour later Kurt hadn't moved and was still looking at those same pants. And Burt couldn't even pretend to understand what that was about.

So he made himself busy with paying bills and all those grown up responsibilities that sort of took the fun out of the ability to go to bed or eat ice cream whenever you wanted to. Finn came in half an hour later, smelling in desperate need of a shower, and immediately on the way to get one.

Burt didn't even notice that Carole had come in, until she came up to him. „Do you know anything about dinner?"

„Um… meal at the end of the day?", Burt asked with a raised eyebrow.

„Yes, I know that, but Kurt said he was going to whip something up, but I don't see anything, so does that mean I have to think of something or he just hasn't started yet?"

„I'll go check on him", Burt offered, glad for an excuse to stand up and stretch his legs. When he got upstairs and found Kurt's room empty, he called out „Kurt? Where are you, what about your dinner plans?"

Finn's head poked through his door. „Kurt's not here."

„Well, where is he then?", Burt asked.

„I don't know, I thought maybe his coffee thing with Blaine ran late or something."

„His car's in the driveway", Burt said.

„Oh… well I dunno, I haven't seen him", Finn said sheepishly.

„Gonna check his cell phone", Burt said and went to get one of the landline handhelds. Apparently Finn took that as his cue to get back to whatever he'd been doing, and his door closed again.

The call went straight to voice mail, which was unusual. Kurt never went anywhere without his phone, and he never turned it off. For other people the most likely theory was that they'd forgotten to charge it, but Kurt was very anal about that sort of thing. Kurt Hummel did not forget to charge his beloved phone, ever.

Or maybe he had, and Burt was just reading too much into this. But there was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that something was wrong.

Two hours later that feeling had just intensified as Burt's mind came up with all sorts of ridiculous scenarios, none of which were ones he really wanted to think about. The fact that he'd called Blaine and some of Kurt's other friends and none of them had had any idea where he could be aside from home was not helping him, either.

Or the fact that he'd found Kurt's phone on a little end table next to their front door where they usually deposited their keys.

He told himself not to go to overboard with his theories, but it was difficult not to call the police right away. But they wouldn't be able to file a missing person's report until he was missing for 24 hours, anyway, so what would be the point?

Besides, chances were Kurt would just walk through the front door and explain how he'd forgotten his cell phone when going for a walk. There wasn't any reason for him to do that, especially on his own, but still…

Better than worrying about all the possible alternatives.

Tina knew some people stayed away from those videos, because they didn't want to see something like that, and thought everyone who did watch them was some sort of pervert, but honestly, she couldn't understand that sentiment at all.

Because, sure, while watching didn't make her happy, and sometimes made her feel sick to her stomach afterwards, she could only imagine the feeling of not knowing, and had early on decided that that must be so much worse. Monsters were always scarier when you didn't know what they looked like and your imagination could run rampant, and it was the same with the videos. Since no one wanted to talk about them, not watching meant listening to vague allusions and then coming up with your own scary video.

She'd rather know what was actually there then subject herself to that.

Besides, how was curiosity supposed to have killed the cat, anyway?

She had a free period before glee that day, so once again she was one of the first to sit around in the choir room, while people were slowly starting to come in. And a new video had just been posted. She plugged in her earphones to avoid the conversation about how could she watch something like that, that's really horrible, and pressed play, reminding herself that the devil that you knew was better than the one you don't, and no, this was not just some sort of morbid curiosity.

Really.

From the first shot she could tell that this one was different. She recognized the song as being Evanescence almost immediately. Not really an original choice for them, but then what would you expect of a psycho serial killer.

The first few shots were too short to really be able to recognize anything, but then there came one that was crystal clear, and suddenly it was very obvious why she'd been starting to think that that voice sounded sort of familiar.

Maybe she gasped, but it felt more like she'd stopped breathing entirely, her fingers cramping around the phone, and suddenly she understood why people didn't want to see these videos, because whatever happened next, there was no way that she'd want to see that, or forget about it ever if she did.

But she couldn't look away.

There was only one scream to be heard in the entire video unlike the previous ones which had been full of screaming and gratuitous violence, but that one scream was enough to shake her to her very core.

His speech was great. But then he'd always had a knack for that, and he'd always through everything that happened to him been so much stronger than he looked.

When the video ended it took her a moment to realize that it had, even though her phone had gone back to displaying the website she'd found the video at. She'd been expecting something… worse, more like the other videos and the sudden ending was jarring, even though she was secretly glad that it didn't show what she'd been dreading.

Still it was the one that left her feeling the worst, and not just because she knew who it was.

Hadn't she seen Kurt in school today? No, apparently not, but she hadn't payed any attention to that, because it occasionally happened that she wouldn't see one of her glee mates until practice time, so it had barely registered before. Now though… The idea that she hadn't seen him because she would probably never again…

A hand on her shoulder startled her into breathing again, and she turned to see that it was Mike, looking at her with concerned eyes. She shakily removed her headphones and opened her mouth to speak, but no sounds would come out.

„Are you okay?", he asked. „Did you watch one of those videos again? I told you not to."

„It… it was Kurt", she whispered. Saying that suddenly made it real, and it was the only thing she managed to get out before she dissolved into a mess of tears and sobbing.

77777777777777777777777777777

Two days later Blaine was a complete wreck. He had barely had anything to eat, and not been able to sleep after that video had been posted.

Of course everyone had told him not to watch it. And of course he had watched it anyway. After he'd found out that it was Kurt he'd had to, and it wasn't quite as bad as he'd imagined, but it had still shattered his heart into a million little pieces, just thinking about Kurt in that situation.

Officially he was just ‚missing'. Which was comforting, in a way, because it sounded as if there was still hope. Even though the message all these videos sent was quite clear this one wasn't technically evidence of a homicide, so the police weren't treating it as one. And maybe they were right. Maybe they would find him, maybe a little worse for the wear, but breathing and fabulous.

Highly likely.

Blaine couldn't help but blame himself. He had the feeling that talking to Kurt about this specifically that day had somehow given him bad Karma, or something like that. David had told him that there was no way that could be true, and it really didn't help Blaine at all if he was beating himself up about something that he clearly had absolutely no influence over. Wes had simply told him he was insane if he actually believed that talking about it had anything to do with it happening.

The police still weren't sure how it had happened. Kurt had clearly gone home and there was no sign of a struggle, none of the doors looked broken into, and if anything inside the house was disturbed it was in such a way that no one except maybe for Kurt would notice the difference. And Kurt wasn't around to tell the difference.

He probably never would be again.

Blaine could feel himself tearing up again. It had been happening at random times all through the last few days, and his face felt like it was permanently swollen. He just couldn't help the thoughts that were creeping up all the time, and his reaction to them was always the same. He didn't want to contemplate what the whole thing really meant for him, but at the same time couldn't think about anything else.

And no one made any comment about it. He hadn't written down anything in class the last few days, and barely been able to listen, but no one said anything about it.

In a way he wished they would. Say something to snap him out of it, because he couldn't stop himself from thinking in circles that were just torturing him.

He bumped into someone, and muttered something, even he wasn't quite sure what, it could've been anything from an apology to trying to yell at the guy for not watching were he was going (not that he'd be one to talk) and felt momentarily disoriented. He couldn't quite remember walking into this hallway, or even really leaving his last classroom. He just stood there for a moment, trying to remember where he was supposed go next, but suddenly a ringing sound caught him completely off guard.

It took him a moment to recognize his own ringtone, and another few seconds to realize that there wasn't really any reason for anybody to call him during school hours.

Unless…

He tried to get to his phone so quickly he fumbled and it fell to the ground. He dropped to his knees to pick it up, and stayed there as he pressed it to his ear.

„Hello?", he breathed anxiously.

„Hey Blaine", Finn's voice answered. „They found Kurt."

A/N: What's this? No updates for months, and then two in the same week? Odd, I know, but I just got back into the groove of writing this, I couldn't risk breaking the habit, so here you go.

Please tell me what you think!


	4. Chapter 3

The first thing he felt when he woke up, was slightly dizzy. He had trouble remembering where he was or what had happened, and for some reason his upper body was really aching.

It took Kurt a minute or so of adjusting before he opened his eyes. And the sight was so jarringly wrong that he finally realized he hadn't been asleep. Or at least not asleep the way he had been expecting to. He saw a huge lamp that was mercilessly shining down on his face while everything else was shrouded in darkness. It was probably a room much larger than the circle of the light, but how far it actually went he had no way of guessing.

It took him another few seconds to realize that he was sitting up. Not just sitting up sleeping, but tied to a chair.

Panic began to set in, and he started struggling against his restraints, but his arms felt sluggish, and when he kicked out, he almost set the chair of balance, so he stopped. Whatever was going on, whatever the reason for him being her was, he sincerely doubted that it would be significantly improved by lying on his side tied to a chair, as opposed to sitting on it.

His breathing got faster, and it was the only sound all throughout the room. _What happened?, _he asked himself and tried to sort his thoughts, but his memories seemed to be jumbled mess.

He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, but that only made the room feel as though it was spinning again. Maybe it really was spinning, who knew? He didn't exactly have a point of reference, here.

He vaguely remembered school, and his first instinct was that this was probably some sort of elaborate prank to… something. Something the jocks had probably thought of to humiliate them, but then this, whatever it was seemed a little too elaborate for the jocks to have come up with it, so… well maybe they'd gotten bored with their usual fare, but weren't Karofsky and Santana and their anti bullying movement supposed to make sure something like this didn't happen?

The bully whips was a really dumb name. Really dumb. How had he not mentioned that to them yet? Impeccable self control, probably. Also the fact that Karofsky had tried to kill him once.

Maybe it was him? But… he had really gotten better, and after the whole prom thing Kurt had really been convinced that Dave meant his apology…

It occurred to him then that the school day had finished and he'd gone on his costumery coffee date with Blaine… was Blaine here? He looked around frantically for a moment, but he was most definitely alone. Within his field of vision, anyway.

He'd gotten home. Home, and the door had rung, and…

Seriously?

A psychotic serial killer, who rang the doorbell? The freaking doorbell, at four in the afternoon? For real?

Then again… serial killer loose, waking up in a strange place tied to a chair with dramatic lighting? Not good. Not good at all.

His heart was beating so fast by now he was convinced anyone walking by would have heard it. He looked down at himself, maybe checking if it was visible, too, or maybe checking if all his limbs were still where he remembered them to be (they were, thankfully) but then noticed something almost as horrifying.

He was wearing different clothes. A plain white button down shirt that he really liked because you could pair it with any vest and a pair of black slacks. No shoes. So whatever was going to happen today, he would get cold feet.

More to the point, whoever had taken him here had actually undressed him and put him in different clothes, and that made him feel vaguely sick.

And… those were his clothes. Of course they were, he knew the material, they fit him perfectly…

An irrational wave of anger filled him. Whatever they'd done to him, well, okay, he'd been unconscious, so who cared, but they'd not only kidnapped him, redressed him, and sort of invaded his home (even if he had been the one to open the door), they had violated his privacy in one of the most personal ways to him possible. They'd went through his clothes. His closet, his massive collection of designer clothes that visitors (including family) were only ever allowed to gaze upon, and maybe on occasion be allowed to hold a few selected items.

Whoever this was had simply ignored all of that and just decided they needed him to wear something else, so they'd rummaged through his sacred shrine of clothes and to top it off picked out something completely bland.

„Right on schedule", a female voice suddenly announced out of nowhere, and just as quickly he completely lost his train of thought on the clothes thing. „To be honest, I was worried you'd take much longer to wake up, since I had to guesstimate the dosage. But it seems I was pretty much spot on. Maybe that's a skill I can put to good use later in my life." The voice seemed to be coming closer, and Kurt nervously looked around trying to guess where it was coming from.

„You know. Since unlike some, my life is still going to continue beyond this night." He didn't know if it was the content or the way she said it, but it made him shiver. Probably visibly. Which he really didn't want to be doing.

_Nobody pushes the Hummels around, _he reminded himself. She wanted to make him scared, and even though she was definitely succeeding he didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that.

„What did you do to me?", he asked, glad that his voice was barely wavering.

„Chloroform. Well, not quite, apparently that went out of style, and what I got had got a different name, but I'm sure you're familiar with the basic idea." As she said the last few words, she finally stepped into the light, and he realized that she was pushing what looked like a pretty advanced camera in front of her.

„Hello", she said and stepped next to the camera. She looked almost shockingly normal. Dark brown shoulder length hair, wearing a pencil skirt and blazer, kind of pretty, but not someone you would really notice in a crowd. She wore a sweet smile as she said, „You can call me Moreena. And I'll be your murderer this evening."

Kurt's stomach did a backflip at the casual tone, and he hoped that she wouldn't notice his discomfort, but then he realized that he'd also just visibly swallowed. So much for playing it cool.

„And you're Kurt Hummel. Member of the McKinley High Glee club, temporary star vocalist of the Cheerios, and also recently transferred back from Dalton academy. Where you went, because a bully was threatening to kill you, but you returned when you believed his promise that he wouldn't pose a threat anymore." She walked in a semicircle around the camera, careful to never step in front of the lens.

„And now that you've returned to Lima, because you believed it was finally safe to be here, you're finding your death in an unexpected manner that had nothing to do with hate crimes about your sexual orientation or confused bullies. That's sort of ironic, isn't it? Well, probably more Alanis Morisette ironic than really, but I like to see some poetry in the whole situation, anyway."

It was really creepy how mush she knew about him. Especially since not all that many people had known about the death threat, which he had really not liked talking about. Easier to say than the other thing, but still not something he'd been advertising.

„Impressed?", she asked with a chuckle. „Yes, I've noticed that the media seems to think that these productions feature random protagonists, but the truth is, casting is a really important decision that should not be made lightly. Picking up someone random of the street may have its charm, but you need to do some research in order to know what you'll end up with, and if that's actually the direction you've been meaning to take."

„Casting?", Kurt blurted out with an incredulous look. „You're murdering people, picking them is not casting!"

She stroked the camera lightly. „Of course it is. I'm choosing people to star in the most important production I've ever made, and also the most important movie of their life. I'll admit, that the production isn't quite as big as something on Hollywood level, but the basic concepts are the same."

„No they're not. Nobody gets killed in Hollywood!", Kurt protested. He tried to tug on his ties again, but even though he felt more awake the result was still the same.

„Don't they? Maybe that's why those movies are so unbearably dull", Moreena said playfully.

„They're fine. They don't need to be improved your way", Kurt said.

„Oh don't look at me like that. You think they're fine, because nobody has opened your eyes to the true possibilities of film as an art medium, yet. And, considering your life expectancy it's unlikely you'll ever learn, but believe me, when I say that what we're doing here tonight is quite something else."

„That I believe", Kurt said and tried to give his best bitch face. And it was probably successful, since he'd barely ever had a reason to use it when he wasn't way more scared than he wanted people to see.

„Well, that's progress", she said, and happily clapped her hands together once. „Anyway, time isn't unlimited, so we should probably get started."

„We? I'm not helping you", Kurt said. Honestly it was quite unsettling that she didn't really look creepy or psychotic, while saying all these things. The way she was acting almost made him feel as if he was the weird one for disagreeing with her idea of being murdered.

„Oh, yes you are", she said, and pulled something out of her back pocket. For a moment he tensed, but then he realized that it was just a piece of paper. „You're going to sing this", she said, and dropped the sheet onto his lap. There was music on it, and he recognized it as a song by Evanescence.

„No I won't. Whatever you want me to do, I won't cooperate." The more vehemently he stated it, the more he believed it himself. No, he wouldn't do whatever that bitch wanted him to do. If you didn't show bullies that they were getting to you, eventually they got bored, and moved on to someone else, so why not use that strategy now, as well?

Aside from the fact that it had never really worked for him.

„No?", she repeated and raised her eyebrows in a sad puppy dog look. „That's too bad. Then I'll just have to let you go, don't I? I mean, if I'm not going to get a decent movie out of this, why waste the time?"

She sounded sort of sincere. Maybe just a little too sincere, but his hopes were still getting up at what she was saying, no matter how firmly he told them not to.

They dropped rather quickly when she pulled out a gun, that was a lot shinier than it had any right to be and pointed it directly at his head. „Bullet to the brain. So terribly uncreative. But I'm really not unreasonable. If you prefer being dead now to being dead at some later point then you're not really what I'm looking for, anyway. People who want to die don't really fit in with the whole concept."

It would probably, from what little he'd seen of the videos and the things people had told him about them be overall a better choice to just take the bullet, instead of giving her the opportunity to torture and humiliate him by putting the results all over the internet. He'd probably save himself a lot of pain.

But he knew in the moment he saw the gun that he very much preferred being dead at some unspecified later point. Preferably in 80 to 90 years, to be honest.

„I'll sing", he said somewhat more quietly than before.

Immediately Moreena's face morphed into a smile. „Great. Okay, I'll untie you for now, so you can hold the sheet music and sing standing up, I hear that's better for gathering enough air in your lungs, not that I'm any sort of expert. But while I do that, I will be holding the gun, and if you make any sort of funny moves, I will kill you. I don't have any real footage yet, getting someone else at this point is all the same to me. Got that?"

Kurt nodded numbly. Agreeing to anything felt dangerously close to selling his soul.

Still, there wasn't really any evidence that souls existed in the world, so who cared, really.

He played with the though of doing something as she walked behind him in order to untie him, but she pressed the gun to his temple before she started untying him, and he allowed himself a moment of wallowing in the shock of having an actual gun pressed to his head, so he sort of missed his window of opportunity.

„Stand up now", she instructed quietly next to his ear, and it was the first time that her tone actually sounded threatening. It was a relief in a way, easier to know who he was dealing with this way.

He did as instructed, and realized as soon as he tried that any attempt to run away wouldn't have been an option, anyway, since his legs felt like jell-o and his feet hurt from hitting the ground after having fallen asleep without him noticing. He was able to balance himself awkwardly, but had to steady himself on the chair, once, noticing that his arms felt equally out of sync with the way they should act.

She walked back to her spot beside the camera, adjusted its angle a little, and motioned for him to pick up the sheet music. She was still keeping her gun pointed at him, and he noticed that she positioned it in a way that it had to be visible on the film.

She spun her index finger in the air, and a moment later piano music was heard from somewhere behind him. He resisted the urge to look around, because he knew the lighting would make it impossible to see anything anyway, and he wasn't sure what the punishment would be if he missed his cue, but he was very sure that he didn't want to find out.

The page was swimming in front of his eyes, and it took him a moment to realize that that wasn't due to an aftereffect of the narcotic. As soon as he realized he started to fight off the tears. Which he was actually much better at than people gave him credit for. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing him cry. Just like he'd almost always been able to keep the bullies from seeing how much their torturing actually impacted him.

He started singing, slow and mournful, and he knew that he couldn't really hide his emotions, there. Singing had always been his one outlet where all the masks dropped away and he could just be himself, no compromise, no hiding.

Maybe he'd never sing another song after this one.

He couldn't hide the trembling that ran through him, mostly because the sheet music shivered along.

Kurt knew this song. He really wasn't into Gothic, but Tina had done her best to get him interested, anyway, which had, just like his attempts to turn her onto Broadway, failed. But the songs where it was just singing that seemed to be not quite from this time, when there were no electric guitars tearing through it, had actually impressed him, somewhat.

This was one of those.

Thinking about hearing it for the first time, and dismissing it not because of its music (which was spectacular, if he was quite honest) but because of the depressing lyrics, made him realize that the accompaniment he was hearing right now wasn't the original recording. Was it a different one, some instrumental version? But just for a moment he was under the impression, that no, this wasn't a recording at all. That moment was fleeting, though. Good sound equipment was a much more likely explanation.

He focused on his singing again, intent on doing that well, if only to push away all the unpleasant thoughts. Staring at the sheet music as he finished the last note it took him an instant to notice that Moreena wasn't standing next to the camera, anymore.

He wasn't quick enough to anticipate the blow when it came, and the unexpected and quite painful impact between his neck and shoulder blade made him drop to the ground in a rather undignified manner. His sluggish limbs couldn't react fast enough to catch himself, so he crashed flat onto the floor.

As he tried to gain his bearings, he felt long fingernails on his skin, and quite suddenly a ripping sound filled the air, buttons of his shirt flying everywhere. She pulled back his arms in a way that was quite painful, and he tried to struggle, but she put a knee on his lower back and effectively immobilized him while tearing the shirt off completely.

The shirt hadn't been warm, or anything, but with it gone, the cold around him seemed to hit him all the more brutally. He knew he was getting goose bumps, but if it was out of cold or fear he couldn't tell.

He had no idea why she'd done this, what she possibly had in mind, and he had the sudden stabbing fear that his pants were to go next and who knew where that would lead…

Kurt felt almost grateful when the pressure from his back lifted only to immediately be replaced by the sharp digging of a knife into his back.

„Your skin is amazing", she said in a conversational tone, even if she did sound slightly awed. „So pale and even. Makes this look even more poetic. People aren't going to believe this is real." She leaned forward and whispered directly into his ear. „Which is what really makes this movie so magical, isn't it? No matter how hard to believe, it's all real."

Not a particularly helpful thing to say. He was very much aware of how real this was, thank you very much.

She pressed the knife back down, and he had to bite back a cry. She sliced for a short bit, and then lifted a pressure and did it again. His fingers curled on the cold concrete, instinctively looking for something to braze himself on, but it didn't help with the pain.

It took him a few moments to realize that she was carving something into his back. It wasn't just a gratuitous form of torture, there was some sort of deeper intent there. Whatever it was, it would probably scar. He'd have to walk around with it for the rest of his life, and the thought made him feel vaguely sick…

Still, walking around with it was better than any alternative outcome to this whole ordeal.

Trying to distract himself from the pain, he looked up, hoping to see more of his surroundings from here, but instead he saw the camera lens hovering much closer to his face than he thought. How had that even moved there? He stared at it for a moment, in shock, not paying quite as much attention to dealing with pain, and when quite suddenly the knife found a sensitive spot he didn't even know he had, he cried out sharply.

Kurt tried to cut off his own scream, but then the knife dug deeper on that one spot, and at that sensation he just couldn't control himself.

„You're a very musical person, aren't you? Even your screaming sounds more like a song than anything else", Moreena commented offhandedly, and picked another spot for cutting into him.

He managed to stay quiet after that, but it felt as if it continued for hours, even though, realistically the whole thing probably hadn't taken more than fifteen minutes.

When she finally removed the knife without immediately setting it down again, and a moment later he felt the soft fabric of his shirt being thrown in his back, he couldn't help but let out a little sigh of relief.

But she didn't leave him any time to revel in that relief, because she immediately grabbed him and hauled him back to the chair and was already pulling his shirt back over his arms, before he could quite process what had happened. So he wasn't able to make any real effort to stop her, when she started tying his hands back together.

He wasn't heavy, of course, something which he took a lot of pride in, but still she didn't look as though she was capable of doing all of this. Kurt noticed the camera was back in its old place, but he had no idea how she had managed to move it back up in the short time.

„So", she said, walking back to her old spot next to the camera with a smile that Kurt really didn't want to describe as charming, even though it was probably accurate. „Last night of your life. How does it feel, so far?"

„Why are you even doing this?", Kurt asked, before he realized that that probably wasn't all too smart. Challenging the crazy serial killer didn't seem like the best move.

She chuckled and leaned back a little. „That's not really an original question. But I think you might be the first one asking it, who is really going to appreciate the answer It's art."

„Art?", he repeated, trying his best to keep the incredulous tone out of his voice, but come on. That tone had every reason to be there.

„Yes, Art. Or are you one of those snobs who think cinematography is never going to be a proper art form? Because it already is, and what I'm doing here is just pushing it further than it's ever been pushed", she leaned forward, and had a glint in her eye that made Kurt very nervous.

„People have seen all sorts of death scenes on TV, in so many Hollywood productions, that it barely even registers to them anymore. Actors, pretending to be in that situation don't touch audiences anymore." Considering how often he'd found himself crying at the TV, he was inclined to disagree, but she wasn't done with her psycho speech.

„But this, this is going to make people feel, because this, all those who came before you, and all that will come after have one thing in common. You're all real. You're actually going through these emotions right now, and so where they, and no matter how good an actor is, they'll never be this. They'll never come close to you and the others, because they haven't felt any of these feelings yet. No one who's still alive to talk about it knows what really dying is actually like. In capturing your last moments, however, I am creating something unique and new. I'm helping the art of moviemaking make a very important transition, one that will revolutionize the genre as soon as people understand how brilliant this is."

„That's…" he didn't want to say insane. But he couldn't think of any word to say, that wouldn't just piss off his captor with potentially horrifying consequences. „…Barbaric", he finished his sentence. Probably not much better when talking to a serial killer, to be honest, but he just couldn't help it.

„Well, you're not really in the position to be appreciating this, so I understand how you'd come to that." She waved it off with a smile.

„But enough about me. Let's talk about you. You're going to be dying soon, so now might be a good time to say all the things you've always been meaning to say to people but wanted to wait for a better time. Pour your heart out, ask for absolution for your sins, that sort of thing. Give the people who are going to be missing you some peace of mind. Now is your chance."

"Are you insane?" And there it was. He'd really been trying to avoid that, but seeing how the last one had just rolled off her, it would probably not make much of a difference. And damn it, he was getting pissed.

"You want me to do what? Leave messages? Tell everyone I love not to be sad, and that it's all going to be okay?" He laughed incredulously, and it came out as a short bark. "Yeah well it isn't. You're just standing there telling me this is the last thing I'll ever say, and you want me to be fine with that? I want to go home, I want to _live_!" She probably liked that, him finally yelling at her, but he really hoped she didn't. To just make that perfectly content look on her face go away had quite suddenly become his main goal.

"So no. I'm not going to say whatever it is you want me to say, and I don't care if it doesn't fit into whatever kind of fucked up picture you're trying to paint." He was panting a little by the end of that speech, not from exhaustion, but from all the pent up emotions that went into it.

„No? Think closely. This will be the last your loved ones will ever see of you. You really want to leave them with nothing, even though you have the chance?"

„You're not getting my point, are you? I don't want to leave them at all. And you're crazy for thinking murder could ever be art, and whatever plan you have in your head for this, I really hope I can mess it up the best I can."

She chuckled again, and just in that moment he understood what went through guys' heads when they decided to punch someone in the face.

Too bad his hands were tied.

And also that he couldn't actually throw a punch that should be classified as such.

„Well, I'm sure they'll be disappointed", she said. „But all right, if that's how you want to do this, fine."

She said nothing for a few moments, giving Kurt time to dwell on the idea that he probably hadn't helped his odds of survival at all with that outburst.

„That's all we need from you, then", she said smiling. She stepped out into the shadows for a moment, and then came back from another direction, holding something that he couldn't quite identify at first, but its shadows on the ground were giving his imagination a little too much fuel.

He couldn't help the way his eyes widened and his throat suddenly went very dry.

„You know, a lot of people wonder how they're going to die." She stepped a little further into the light. „This is yours."

* * *

><p>TBC<p>

Let me know what you think!


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